


Frain-o-Matic

by The_Unnatural_Disaster (havent_got_a_clue)



Category: James Frain RPS, The Tudors, Tron: Legacy (2010), True Blood, Where the Heart Is - Fandom
Genre: Comedy, Crack, Crossover, F/M, Het, Humor, RPS - Freeform, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havent_got_a_clue/pseuds/The_Unnatural_Disaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Frain has played a LOT of different characters in his career. Which one is best suited for YOUR needs? Here you can try out a variety of James Frains until you find the one you like best. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>CRACK.  But, you know, sexy crack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frain-o-Matic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plainapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plainapple/gifts).



> written for plainapple's birthday a few years ago and I want to get all my fic in one place. She couldn't decide which James Frain character she liked best, so I decided to show her a few different models so she could make an informed decision.

The soft sheets caressed her skin, its folds and hills casting shadows from the candlelight all around. He’d put on soft music; seductive, something with a muted trumpet, a brush stroke on a drum, a plucking bass, warm and punctuated with kisses and soft, hesitant touches. His tongue explored her mouth, her neck, her shoulders. She whimpered and he swallowed it with his mouth on hers. She could feel the heat from his bare chest through the thin sheet and she longed to feel her own naked skin against his. She untangled her fingers from his hair and moved them to push the sheet down but his hands on hers stopped it before it dipped to cleavage. He resumed kissing her and pulled the sheet tastefully over his own boxer-clad body and she was surprised to discover that she, too, was wearing underwear. She started to push them down and once again he stopped her.

“Let me kiss you for awhile. Just like this.”

She sat up, keenly aware that the sheet stayed well above the swell of her breasts, and pushed him away.

“Ok. What gives? Are we going to have sex or what?”

He nuzzled her neck and tried to lay her back down. “I’m afraid I don’t have sex. I make love. I thought you knew that coming into this.”

She thought for a second. “Why won’t this sheet go any lower? Hello? Boobs!”

“I’m sorry, but this Frain is from a PG-13 film. You can practically bounce on a trampoline wearing nothing but that sheet and you’ll still never expose anything more than some thigh, maybe a bit of arse, and a bit of cleavage...and you do know that when we get to that big moment it cuts to the next scene right beforehand, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah...so...it was nice meeting you. I’m gonna...uhhh...HELLO?” She called into the air. “THIS ISN’T WORKING. I’D LIKE TO TRY OUT ANOTHER ONE!”

At once a door opened and a saleslady appeared. “Oh, dear. Not your style? Our Forney Hull model is quite popular-”

“Popular? What the hell, lady? That is for FUCKING and all he wants to do is make soft and chaste love set to college music. GOD. SERIOUSLY? Popular? Maybe with middle aged women. NEXT!”

The saleslady turned on her heel and sighed. She beckoned her to follow her through the door. She jumped up from the bed, sheet still firmly attached like it was glued there and ran through the door.

At once she was back in the hallway of the sales center and magically back in her street clothes.

The saleslady, Janet, made a note on her iPad and walked towards another door.

“Ok. ma’am. Give this Frain a go and see what you think. Give me a call when you are done.”

The door was old. Heavy. Ornate. It was made of wood and she could hear the crackling of a roaring fire behind it. With a deep breath, she pushed it open....

 

\------------------------------PART 2--------------------------------------

She was in a long, flowy dress with her breasts pushed up so high she could rest a supper tray on them. It was dark, but candles and a fire sparked shadows on the heavy wooden and iron furniture.

He was seated at a writing desk with a quill in his hand putting letters to parchment. She carried to him a tray of bread and wine, surely for strength to carry out the king’s orders. She had heard his angry yells as she passed by performing her duties earlier in the day.

She placed the silver tray within his reach and curtsied, although he did not look up from his task. She turned to take her leave of him but stopped when she heard him clear his throat.

“Girl. Come back. I have need of you further this night.”

She turned to see his eyes piercing in the firelight. She curtsied once more; a show of respect and compliance.

“Come closer. You must be chilled and my fire burns hot and long tonight.”

She pulled in a breath and walked closer to the fire--and him. He’d long abandoned his usual ornate dress fit for the royal court and instead wore a simple tunic, opened slightly at his upper chest to reveal more skin than she should be thinking about.

He stood to greet her at the fire and his warm fingers trailed down her neck. “Just as I thought...your skin is like ice.”

She shivered and he delighted in watching her flesh rise and respond to his warmth.

“Allow me to help you get warm?” She nodded and he raised the glass of wine to his lips, sipping once and leaving beads of red on his lips. “Would you like some wine, girl? I find that it warms you from the inside...much like I plan to do later.” The corner of his mouth turned upwards and she knew with all certainty his intentions.

He dipped a finger into the glass and smeared some more wine on his lips and surged forward to meet her mouth. She licked at the wine on his lips and his tongue met her own.

He kissed her and she felt his warm fingers run over the tops of her breasts and down to cup them through her dress. His member, usually trapped by his formal dress was hard and heavy against her and she knew he--

“Ahem! Sorry to interrupt! I am so sorry but this Frain was actually purchased this morning! I guess there was a little paperwork mix-up! The buyer is here to collect him now!”

She turned to see the Janet and a very pissed off looking ginger-haired woman with her hands on her hips.

“Oh. Damn. Really?” She backed away from him--if girls could have blue balls, she’d have the worst case EVER.

The redhead pursed her lips and called to him. “OK, Cromwell. Get your stiffy in check. We’re going home!”

Janet beckoned to her to give the redhead and Cromwell Frain a few minutes alone and they exited back into the hallway.

“I’m so sorry about that!” Janet was too happy and too perky and she was going to kill her if she didn’t find her a Frain to fuck SOON.

“Let’s see here...” She consulted her iPad again. “Ah...yes. Ok. Right this way, ma’am.” Janet walked towards another door.

This one was brilliant blue-white and glowed. She could feel it pulse like an electric hum when she touched it and instead of opening inward, it slid open automatically. Not knowing what to expect, she held her breath and walked in.

 

\-----------------------------PART 3----------------------------------------

Lights flashed past her. The whiz/pop of electricity thrummed in the air and it was so white it was blue. She couldn’t focus on the source of the lights, just the trail they left in their wake.

A mysterious figure approached. It was clad in a white skin-tight suit and a helmet. She liked the outline the suit made on the figure and it was definitely male.

He came closer and took off his helmet. He--

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! BALD! BALD! BALD! BALD! BALD! BALD! BALD! BALD!!!! NO GOOD! BAAAAAAAAALD!!! JANET! BALD! JANEEEEEEEEEET!!!!!”

A hand from the ether yanked her back through the doorway and she breathed heavily to slow down her racing heart.

“OK. So. Hair is non-negotiable. Got it. Let’s see...must be naked, sexy, hairy...got it.” She spoke as she typed everything up. “Alrighty then! Moving on!” Janet led her to another wooden door, but this one was plain, shoddy, made of knotty pine and worn in places. She could hear music and voices and smelled...fries and pisswater beer and that unmistakably organic swamp smell.

Shaking her head in frustration, she pushed open the door.

\-----------------------------PART 4---------------------------------------  
The first thing that hit her was the wall of humidity as the door to the bar swung open. Even inside it felt like she was underwater and the air conditioning did nothing for the sweltering heat. The bar was crowded, of course. It was Saturday night and the only game in town.

She found an empty stool at the bar and sat down to order something strong and cold from the sassy bartender who wasn’t taking any shit from anyone.

“What kin I git ya?” Her twang was as thick as the night air.

“The best beer you got,” she said.

“Comin’ right up.” She turned away to get a few more orders and left her to study the people in the room. The usual assortment of rednecks and backwater good old boys filled up the place and they were varying degrees of loud and drunk.

She could feel a body slide onto the stool next to her and she turned to see what trucker hat wearing slob would be hitting on her this t--oh, my.

He was thin, clean...gorgeous.

No flannel or Wranglers in sight. Just a simple black button down shirt in a slinky fabric and dark jeans she could tell would highlight his ass when he stood up.

He looked at her and smiled. “Quite a night.” Far from the twangy crowd; he was English.

She blushed like a 14 year old girl meeting Justin Bieber. “Yeah.” The bartender slid her beer to her. “You’re obviously not from around here. How did you get to be in this backwater swamp?”

He gestured to the bartender and mouthed his order, also telling her to be positive and she wondered how many times he’d wandered into the bar to know the surly bartender enough to give her mood advice. He turned back to her. “I’m here on business.”

“Business? In this tiny town?” She laughed and he grinned at her.

“In my line of business, I go everywhere." He moved in closer to her. "You obviously don't belong in the swamp, either. I could ask the same question of you."

She took a swig of her beer, making a concerted effort to showcase her lips around the top.

"My car broke down about a mile out of town. I was passing through meeting a few old friends in New Orleans for a weekend and my head gasket blew. Gonna cost me a fortune, but I can't even get a rental or a tow to any city this far from civilization so I guess I'm stuck here until it's fixed." She sighed and took another pull from her beer.

The bartender slid his drink order to him with a look of contempt and one glance at the bottle told her why: True Blood. B positive. He was a vampire. She backed up in fear but regained her composure, praying he didn't notice, but his smile widened. He looked like a predator. A hungry predator.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a ten, pushed it toward the bartender and looked for the door.

"You're not leaving are you? The night is so young! " He laughed and spread his arms wide. She bit her lip and felt sick. She had to get to the relative safety of her private motel room.

"Please stay. I have but racist rednecks and simple locals to keep me company here and I'm going maaaaaad listening to talk of which high school quarterback will lead their team to victory this year. Let me buy you dinner."

She felt oddly at ease and cautiously agreed to an unhealthy dinner at one of the booths. They talked of music and history and art and travel and he regaled her with tales of meeting van Gogh and walking in on Bram Stoker roleplaying his vampire novel with male prostitutes. She found herself talking about intimate details of her life, things she wouldn't normally tell a stranger.

It was near midnight and the bar owner made last call and people started to usher themselves out. The man, Franklin, reached for her hand across the table. "Would you like to get out of here?"

Every tiny cell in her body screamed at her that it was a terrible idea but she found herself saying yes and following him into the humid night.

The cicadas hummed and she could hear branches above cracking from the movement of roosting birds. Franklin led her by her hand to the parking lot. "You must be staying somewhere close with no car."

"Yeah. That little motel about a half mile from here. It's damp and I can only get 4 channels, but for the next three days it's home."

"Half mile? I'm afraid I can't wait that long." With that he twirled her so she backed into the outside wall of the bar and pressed up close. She opened her eyes wide in shock/arousal. His erection pressed into her and she could see the glint of fangs in his mouth.

He dipped down to inhale her scent and she moaned at the feel of it on her neck. "I can smell your arousal, your blood. I can see it pulse beneath your skin. God. I want to taste all of you." He licked the skin over her artery.

She closed her eyes and chalked up her head lolling back to instinct and not intent. His hands came up to either side of her, boxing her in. His lips touched hers and any resolve she had left melted away.

Hands roamed as they kissed. He skimmed up her shirt as she licked at his fangs. He thrust his hips toward her, emphasizing his very hard cock and his immediate need to deal with it. She was wearing a skirt, which made it all too easy to lift it up and let him have a go right there against the wall. She pawed at this jeans, which, just as she'd suspected, highlighted his ass very well, and struggled one-handed to free him.

He laughed gently at her attempt and stopped to help, pulling himself out and lifting her skirt effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around him and felt him at her entrance. God, it was finally happening.

One push and he was home and be groaned at the feeling. He nestled into her neck and prepared to thrust again. With the next push, he broke the skin with his fangs.

"Ow! You son of a bitch! That really hurt! What the hell? JANET! Get me out of this Twilight shit! Dammit! I'm really bleeding!" She reached for the wound and wiped away the trickle of blood. She pushed him out of her and lowered her skirt just as Janet walked through the door.

"Hmmm...you're going to be a tough one, aren't you? Let me talk to my manager. This may be above my pay grade."

They got back to the hallway and Janet disappeared. A porter passed by and offered her a cloth to hold on her bite mark and some coffee while she waited.

Ten minutes passed and Janet walked up with an older woman. "Ma'am, this is my manager, Judy. We've been discussing your lack of satisfaction with us today and we think we have a solution. Follow us, please."

They stopped at the largest door yet. It was plain and red. She looked back at them, ready to just ask for her money back.

"Go on. We know this is the one."

She opened the door, held her breath, closed her eyes, and went in.

 

\---------------------------PART 5------------------------------------------

It was a plain living room. Sofa. Coffee table. TV. She was dressed in her street clothes. On the sofa was a man in a faded t shirt and jeans with bare feet. He was reading.

He looked up at her. "Oh, hello. I'm James."

"James? Like just plain James Frain?"

"In the flesh." He smiled and it was genuine. "I take it you were a special case?"

She cringed. "Yeah...I tried them all and...I'm not super picky or anything, I swear. I just...nothing fit."

"I like that you are a picky customer. It shows you have particular tastes and won't settle. I've been looking over your preferences. Is there anything you'd like to ask before we go on our test drive?"

"Do you get naked?"

"As much as possible."

"Do you fuck? Can we get dirty? Do you like boobs?"

"A resounding yes to all of that."

"That your real hair?"

"You may pull on it and see for yourself when you 'fuck' me."

"Do you bite?"

He laughed. "Only if you ask me to." He looked at her drying neck. "Oh, dear. Franklin does tend to get carried away, doesn't he?"

She looked James up and down and smiled.

Three hours later she emerged to find Judy and Janet waiting outside the door. She was flushed and sweaty and smiling. "I'll take him. God. Yes. This is the one. Wrap him up and let me sign the papers. He's coming home with me RIGHT NOW."

The sales staff smiled. They made another commission and another very satisfied customer.


End file.
